Little Drummer Boy
by Deathbistereo95
Summary: Fear is an insipid thing. It creeps and it slithers until it paralyzes you and grips your heart. Everything that you once loved is somehow…disposable. The question you end up having to ask yourself is, is your life worth more than someone else's, and can you live with yourself if the answer is yes?


Fear is an insipid thing. It creeps and it slithers until it paralyzes you and grips your heart. Everything that you once loved is somehow…disposable. The question you end up having to ask yourself is, is your life worth more than someone else's, and can you live with yourself if the answer is yes?

He may have saved his own skin, but at what cost? It's not that Peter quite regrets what happened all those years ago on a dark Halloween night. Because if he completely regrets it then he'll have to admit that he made the wrong choice. In a way, he feels that living as the Weasley child's pet rat is penance enough for his crimes. No wizard should have to live as something less than human.

His stomach roils in his gut when he sees Sirius and Remus after so many years. His first instinct is to run, because he can't admit out loud that he's the traitor. It made sense to pin it on Sirius, though that hadn't been the original plan, but an opportunity had presented itself. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

 _You killed 12 people._

 _It was them or me!_

 _But what about James and Lily? Marlene and Dorcas? Caradoc?_

 _I made my choice!_

It's like a switch flips itself when you tell yourself that you do not want to die, and that you will pay any price so that you can stay alive. Peter always thought that he'd made it a little too easily.

He had only been 17 years old when he'd joined the war, right out of school. What world demanded their children to be soldiers? It wasn't fair. He wasn't ready to die for something he wasn't even sure he believed in. Sure, blood purity was wrong, but it wasn't really his problem. It's not as if he were like Remus or like Lily. They had their reasons for fighting.

Sirius and Remus hold him back, block his path, and throw him back into the deepest parts of the house. He's more aware that James's son is watching this whole scene, judging and finally comprehending his parents' murders.

 _Coward. Grovel at his feet._

Harry, as it turned out, wouldn't forgive him either. He was never sure if he'd truly accept it if the boy had. It would have kept him alive though.

But Harry, beautiful, sweet boy, saved him regardless of his sins. That didn't mean he owed him anything. It bought him time.

Peter's name lost all real meaning after that, but he held onto it. He was Peter Pettrigrew, not only Wormtail – the traitor. That didn't stop the other Death Eaters though, or the Dark Lord.

 _HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MY SON?_

 _I'm so sorry, James. I'm so sorry, Lily. I didn't mean –_

Peter couldn't spend much time as a rat anymore, even though it helped keep the nightmares at bay, lest he risk Nagini swallowing him whole.

"My sweet boy." His mother stroked his face, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I will miss you, but I know that you will be brave."

His bangs fell back into his eyes as he ducked his head. "Mum, I don't think I am. I'm so frightened. What if I don't make any friends?"

"Darling." His mother had taken his small body into her arms and just squeezed. "You will. You're going to make me so proud."

His mother had died thinking he'd died nobly and had been bestowed an Order of Merlin: First Class. At least she wasn't alive to be disappointed. He'd made her proud, even if it all had been a fallacy.

" _Wormtail,"_ the Dark Lord hissed. _"Bring me Lucius. I have need of him."_

He ducked his head, no longer having enough hair for bangs to fall into his eyes. "Yes, Master."

He'd never been brave in his whole life. He should have been a Hufflepuff.

 _But at least they're loyal! What are you? Not smart enough. Why would the snakes take you or the ravens?_

 _I showed them. I showed them all! It was their fault for doubting me._

Pete had always been a bit slower than his friends, but he always caught up. Becoming an animagus had been the greatest feat of his young life, but he was forever grateful to James for helping him achieve it. It had ended up saving his life.

Everyone had always written him off as useless, but not James. Remus and Sirius had seemed to put up with him more than anything, but they all shared the need to soak up James's light.

James had been the one to bring them together, and his death had torn them apart.

He'd waited before he'd gone to the Dark Lord with the Potters' location. The plan had been for Sirius to check on him every other week. He'd waited two days, even with the multiple summons he'd received. Until the fear consumed him, pushing him over the edge.

 _Traitor. Betrayer. Liar._

Marlene had been hard. She'd been the first member of the Order he'd given away the location of. Dorcas had been a little easier. Caradoc had felt like nothing. But James…

"Godric's Hollow." Peter gripped his left forearm, trying to squeeze the burning sensation out.

" _You are sure?_ " The Dark Lord's red eyes shown out vibrantly against the sickly pallor of his skin.

"They made me their secret keeper…"

 _Their secret keeper._

 _No one will ever suspect Peter. Use Peter. Peter. Peter. Wormtail. Should have died._

 _Please, no. Don't put their lives in my hands. But they did._

 _I killed Lily and James._

 _They killed themselves. They trusted the wrong man. The wrong friend._

The silver hand gripped his throat and he could not escape the certainty of his death. He'd fought to hard and lost so much just to die. He had prolonged his life far past his friends, but he hadn't been living, only existing and surviving. A sniveling rat, hated by all.

He'd saved their son. Perhaps it had not been wholly his choice, but he had protected James's son, and Lily's.

 _You have your mother's eyes. Forgive me._

Fear is an insipid thing. It creeps and it slithers until it paralyzes you and grips your heart. It seizes so hard that you feel as every breath you take is a knife, and you know you're on borrowed time.


End file.
